


this is not a love song

by Lint



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12969894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: “Oh please,” she detracts. “We both know you'd rather it be boring Betty slipping between your sheets and betwixt your legs, but that's hardly an option is it?"





	this is not a love song

Veronica honestly didn't expect it to hurt this much.

 

Or to feel so helpless, watching the bob of Betty's ponytail bounce behind her as she walks away, hands clutching at her pearls because she doesn't know what to do with them. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Finally feeling brave enough to confess her feelings. To actually be able to put them into words. Her heart rising in the east, and Betty being the sun. Bad misquotes aside, the fact that it isn't reciprocated, leaves her stunned.

 

When she remembers how to breathe, the tears rise against her eyes like a dam ready to burst, and it takes every ounce of will power she has to keep them from falling. Doing a quick turn from where Betty has finally reached the end of the hall, she immediately comes face to face with Cheryl.

 

Judgmental eyes and a knowing smirk are there to greet her, and they Veronica give pause, waiting for whatever biting comment is about to come. Cheryl surprises her by staying silent, stepping aside to let her pass, and Veronica takes the out without response fleeing for the doors.

 

-

 

Cheryl continues to surprise her, sliding into the opposite side of the booth, once again keeping comments to herself as Veronica attempts to drown her sorrows in a triple chocolate milkshake. She snaps her fingers and the waiter scurries on over, taking her order of a strawberry shake while the redhead's eyes never leave Veronica's, then shoos him away with a flutter of her hand.

 

“She doesn't deserve it, you know.”

 

She being Betty of course, but the _it_ Cheryl refers to can be open for interpretation. Her feelings? Her friendship? Her love?

 

Any one of these things Veronica gave or would give so freely.

 

She takes a long pull of her shake instead of answering.

 

“There's a party tonight,” Cheryl goes on. “You're coming.”

 

She throws up a hand with it looks like Veronica will deny the invitation.

 

“No is not an acceptable answer, Ronnie darling.” Cheryl coos. “What good is wallowing away in the Pembrooke and writing B & V forever in a notebook no one is ever going to read?”

 

Veronica can only scowl in reply.

 

“I'll pick you up at eight,” she insists. “It's going to be ever so much fun.”

 

With that she slides out the booth and walks toward the door without another word, her forgotten milkshake brought by the waiter just as the bell on the door rings with her exit.

 

-

 

The Pussycats are on lock tonight, as Veronica moves with the rhythm, burying negative thought below the throbbing beat. Cheryl is nowhere to be found, having ditched her the second of their arrival, but Veronica is a couple drinks beyond caring at this point. She dances with strangers, a different one with each number, swimming through the crowd like a shark with no sense of direction.

 

“This is our last song,” Josie announces. “Thank you, Midvale you've been amazing.”

 

Veronica pulls out all the stops, throwing herself around with the music, losing herself in the lights. It feels so good, to feel nothing in the moment, letting Josie's words fill her ears and song mend her heart. It's only when it ends, does the ache come crawling back into her veins, sending Veronica straight to the bar to drown it out. (Her fake ID still the best money can buy.)

 

“You might want to ease up, lush.” Cheryl says, appearing suddenly at her side. “No way am I risking you recycling all this vodka on the floorboards of my car.”

 

Veronica shoots her a curious look.

 

“This party was your idea,” she replies, lifting the drink to her lips. “Reap what you sow.”

 

Cheryl huffs and folds her arms, no doubt about to threaten abandoning Veronica's drunken form here and now. She doesn't get the chance, because Chuck Clayton of all people bounds up to the bar with his arm around Josie.

 

Veronica recoils at the sight of him, but it's Cheryl who looks the most offended, eyes burning with shock and awe that someone like Josie would ever give him the time of day. The worst part is Josie doesn't even notice her standing there and, alcohol affected senses or not, Veronica sees that as the catalyst to Cheryl storming off.

 

-

 

It's not her bed.

 

A fact she realizes right way, eyes fluttering open, vision blurred and seeing red. She groans and tries to move, but the room starts to spin, leaving her head to crash back into the pillow.

 

“Stop moving,” Cheryl mutters, her beside manner nothing but a stiff warning.

 

Veronica has no plans to move again, though she does tug at the bed sheet to pull it higher, on a shoulder it takes another moment to realize is bare. Her eyes snap open then, to see Cheryl's sleepyhead in front of her, the sheet propped carefully above the other girl's chest. She's naked underneath, Veronica understands. Because, oh god, so is she.

 

“Cheryl,” Veronica starts, pausing when the girl's faces bunches up. “Did we?”

 

“Yes,” comes the quick reply. “Let that blow your mind if it has to, but do it quietly. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

 

Oh no, Veronica thinks. Oh no, no, no.

 

She remembers now. Finding Cheryl in that darkened corner of the club, mascara running from the tears shed, putting her arms around the girl like the friend she always tried to be. That first kiss is still somewhat confusing. Unsure if it was she who initiated it, or Cheryl, not that it really matters when their lips met anyway. How they made it back to Cheryl's new house is still a blur. How they managed to keep their hands off each other the entire drive a mystery all its own.

 

“I-”

 

“Don't have to say anything,” Cheryl dismisses. “Clearly a one time thing. So try not to do something stupid like fall in love with me, okay?”

 

Veronica is stunned to silence, but after a moment, softly states that it won't be an issue.

 

-

 

“You're playing with fire,” Kevin says over her shoulder.

 

It's between fourth and fifth period, and she's pretty sure there's going to be a pop quiz in history, so she's really not focused on the possibilities of what he could be talking about.

 

“What?” she replies, switching out the textbooks in her locker.

 

“Figuratively,” he sighs. “Literally. Take your pick. You're still going to get burned.”

 

Veronica's brow creases together.

 

“You're having this conversation like I have any idea what my part in it is supposed to be,” she tosses back, tucking the history book under her arm. “Now please, explain yourself.”

 

Kevin shoots a quick glance around for eavesdroppers, and lowers his voice despite the fact that there don't appear to be any.

 

“You and Cheryl,” he informs. “I get it. Maybe. But trying to mend your broken little bi-heart with the worst possible of options? This can't be good for you.”

 

“Okay first of all,” Veronica begins, somewhat shocked he knows. “Who told you in the first place? Second, hard to take criticism from the guy who thinks cruising the woods is a safer option, to someone who might lie about their eye color on the internet.”

 

Kevin just gives a concerned look.

 

“That was uncalled for,” he says. “But I'll let it go if you promise not to fall into bed with Cheryl the psycho ever again.”

 

“Speaking of uncalled for,” Veronica rebukes. “Low blows aren't your style, Kevin.”

 

“No,” he agrees. “But I'm just trying to look out for you. Maybe because I didn't before. I could have said falling in love with Betty Cooper was only going to end badly, but I don't think you would have listened to me anyway.”

 

Veronica's stomach drops.

 

“I don't want to talk about that,” she says stiffly.

 

Kevin only offers a patronizing smile.

 

Veronica steps around him and marches straight to history class.

 

(She's still not sure how she ends up skipping, and making out with Cheryl in an empty storage room instead.)

 

-

 

“What is this to you?” Veronica can't help but ask, watching as Cheryl searches the floor for her blouse.

 

The girl doesn't even turn her head, still concentrating on finding the lost garment.

 

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” she replies, making a small noise on discovering it peeking out from under the bed.

 

“This,” Veronica repeats. “You and me.”

 

Cheryl slips the blouse over her head, arms raised to the ceiling, before turning to face Veronica again with an indifferent look.

 

“Same as it is to you, I suppose.” Her enigmatic response.

 

Veronica sighs.

 

“I don't understand.”

 

Cheryl only shrugs.

 

“What's to understand?” she asks. “A scratch to an itch. That's all this has to be. I'm not the one you really want, and you're-”

 

“Also not the one you really want?” Veronica finishes.

 

“No offense.”

 

Veronica scoffs.

 

“None taken.”

 

Cheryl sits on the edge of the bed.

 

“Oh please,” she detracts. “We both know you'd rather it be boring Betty slipping between your sheets and betwixt your legs, but that's hardly an option is it? So, lucky for you, I'm ever so generous with my time and body and we both get a release.”

 

Veronica thinks that over.

 

“Josie has no idea how you feel, does she?”

 

Cheryl's head turns sharply away.

 

“Why don't you just tell her?”

 

Cheryl rises from the bed, smoothing out her skirt, and heading for the door.

 

“How did that work out for you?” she asks on her departure.

 

-

 

Betty has been avoiding her for over ten days.

 

She's had sex with Cheryl half a dozen times, since her confession in the hall, and made out with her at least twice as much. Scratch to an itch, she tells herself every time it happens. Because it keeps happening, with increasing urgency, the more each one of their unrequited loves continues to shut them out. Veronica isn't sure why she's so surprised at how good each time is, at how it only seems to get better the more they familiarize with each other.

 

Feelings aren't in danger of being caught, but Veronica will admit to a certain something growing between them. Expectation maybe? That this will continue to happen, and is welcome so, by both parties involved. How they don't even pretend they aren't thinking of other people, but that honesty somehow contributes.

 

Veronica's phone vibrates on the nightstand, and she fully intends on ignoring it, but when it goes off a second time can't help but reach to grab it.

 

“Rude,” Cheryl growls, kissing her way along Veronica's collarbone. Her post coital affections expanding the more they fall into bed together.

 

“Sorry,” Veronica replies halfheartedly, setting the phone down on the mattress without looking at it.

 

“Better be.”

 

Veronica's toes curl when Cheryl nips at a pressure point, the move just distracting enough that she doesn't notice the redhead picking up her discarded phone.

 

“It's Betty,” she informs, using her position of straddling Veronica's waist, to keep her from shifting upward to snatch the device back.

 

“Don't,” Veronica warns.

 

“I'm sorry,” Cheryl goes on, ignoring her by reading the text aloud. “Can we talk?”

 

Her mouth forms a thin smile.

“Looks like there's a chance for the two of you yet,” she offers.

 

Veronica will not let her hopes get up.

 

“Doubt it,” she denies. “Probably realized she was being ridiculous, and wants to stay friends.”

 

Cheryl cocks an eyebrow.

 

“Do you really believe that?”

 

Veronica thinks it over.

 

“I don't know,” she admits.

 

Cheryl tosses the phone onto the floor, lowering herself so that her lips are just inches from Veronica's.

 

“Are you in love with me yet?”

 

Veronica scowls.

 

“No.”

 

Cheryl closes the gap for a kiss.

 

“Good.”

 


End file.
